


I'll Keep the Score

by Trixree



Category: One Piece
Genre: Family of Choice, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Nakamaship, Tattoos, This is basically a love letter to Makino
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:42:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28584441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trixree/pseuds/Trixree
Summary: “He’s gone but you are not, Luffy. You hear me? Every day that you live you will carry him with you.”
Relationships: Monkey D. Luffy/Everyone
Comments: 9
Kudos: 71





	I'll Keep the Score

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd and written in a complete frenzy   
> I saw the art for the 1000th chapter with [Luffy in the crown and the "thousand seas" tattoo](https://beif0ngs.tumblr.com/post/639365975356178432/1000-chapters-of-one-piece-theres-a-certain) late last night and went, "Oh, he should have MORE of those" and dfadljkfhdflkj here this is I guess

Sabo gets the drop on Ace and the other boy goes tumbling face first into the dirt, legs swiped out from under him at the ankle, sputtering in inarticulate anger all the way down. As Sabo throws his sweaty head back and cackles, Luffy laughs too. 

“Another for me, Luff!” He’s all gap toothed grins, even as Ace lurches back to his feet and attempts to goad him into another rematch. 

Luffy marks the blackboard where they’ve started keeping score on the old salvaged thing—Sabo at eleven wins and Ace at twelve. The chalkboard paint has started to peel ever so slightly at the edges, but their hastily scribbled names (and Luffy’s own, which he added near illegibly at the side just because he wanted to be on it, even if his brothers won’t properly spar with him yet) and the tally marks that follow more than fit on the black space that remains. 

They dragged the old thing all the way from the Grey Terminal out to the clearing just earlier today. It was Ace that pilfered a box of chalk from Dadan’s old shed and it was quickly decided that Luffy is the official score-keeper, as any spar involving him would be enormously unbalanced. 

“When your gomu-gomu no pistol actually hits the thing you want it to, we’ll spar with you,” Ace said, but he ruffled Luffy’s hair afterwards in a very brotherly way which took all the sting out of the words. 

Sabo calls this clearing “the dust bowl” because on this patch of bare ground, the dirt is so loose that it clings in thin but pervasive layers anytime they so much as walk across the slightly concave patch. When it rains, the dust bowl fills up at least five inches high with mud which is arguably the best thing about it, if you ask Luffy. 

But the new use for the space isn’t half-bad either. It’s a good place to spar with lots of room for tackling and dodging and throwing rubber punches that slingshot unpredictably back at you and often tangle painfully around tree trunks and other obstacles. The better part of the afternoon has been spent just like this—Luffy sitting with his chalk by the board and Ace and Sabo trying their best to kick the absolute crap out of each other. 

“Fuck! That stings!” Ace grumbles, clutching at his ankle where Sabo’s swift kick connected. 

He has just learned the word “fuck” from Dadan, who was very angry about the whole thing. It is Ace’s new favorite word. Every time he says it, Sabo snickers like it’s the best joke  _ ever  _ so Luffy ends up laughing too, even if he doesn’t understand why it’s so funny. It just  _ is.  _

(Unquestionably funny was the face that Dadan made when  _ Luffy  _ said “Thanks for the fucking meal!” just two nights ago. Her face got nearly as red as her hair once she  _ really  _ started to yell about “damn foul-mouthed wild boys!”)

Luffy kicks his feet idly above the ground, resting on the tree-stump they swore their brotherly allegiance on, which surprisingly makes a pretty great stool. 

“Hey, Sabo, I bet when I’m old enough to spar, I’ll kick your butt way better than Ace!” 

Sabo’s tongue pokes through the gap in his teeth. “Sure, Luff! Can’t wait to see the day!” 

“C’mon, again,” Ace demands. “Show me how you did that sweeping thing, I want to try.” His cheeks and arms are faintly pink from prolonged sun exposure—the dust bowl not as shaded as the forest usually is—and with his pinkening skin come new smatterings of freckles. Sometimes, when Ace is asleep, Sabo and Luffy will quietly trace constellations across his skin. 

Sabo goes pinwheeling backwards onto the ground with a thud. 

“Fuck yeah! That makes thirteen, Luffy!” Ace whoops. 

“Hey! Don’t mark that down, that doesn’t count!” Sabo leaps to his feet, rounding on Luffy with an accusatory  _ don’t-you-dare  _ finger pointed straight at his face. “I was just showing you the move! That wasn’t an actual fight!” 

After another minute or two of impassioned shouting, it is Ace that says, “Luffy is the score-keeper, he should get to decide. Luff? Who gets the point? Me or nobody?” 

“It wasn’t an actual  _ spar!  _ I was just showing you how to do the leg-sweep! C’mon Luffy, don’t give it to him. Listen to your  _ favorite  _ brother!” 

“You? The  _ favorite  _ brother? No way! Luffy likes me more, right Luff?” 

Before he can even get a breath to respond, Sabo sing-songs, “Uh, false! I’m clearly the better brother.” 

“Shut up! I’ve known him longer!” 

“Oh, you mean  _ ignored  _ him longer?” 

They’re too busy bickering to notice that Luffy, in a fit of genius, has assigned the tally in dispute to his own name. 

* * *

Before Mount Colubo, Luffy was lonely. 

Makino’s bar was his favorite place because it was always noisy and lively, whether it was packed to the brim with visiting pirates, townspeople, or just Makino herself humming along to fill the silence while she cleans the glasses. Luffy misses her, sometimes, even though he knows for sure he’s happier where he is with his brothers. She had such a nice voice and never once turned him away or told him to shoo, even when it was busy. And, when the bar wasn’t busy, she’d sometimes let him back behind the counter and give him one of those really special sodas that come in the dark bottles and taste like vanilla. 

But Luffy wasn’t always there and when he wasn’t (and sometimes even when he  _ was,  _ despite how nice Makino is) he was lonely. 

Perhaps that’s why Shank’s crew and the pirate life appealed to him so much. Not only for the freedom, but for the  _ company.  _ The  _ nakama.  _

“Nakama,” Shanks had explained in a wobbly voice after drinking lots and lots all night long, “Are the family you choose, Luffy.” His smile was the broadest Luffy had ever seen, especially as Benn Beckman had helped Shanks stand. “Nakama are the folks that are always gonna’ carry you when you’ve had s’abit too much.” Benn had rolled his eyes, but there was a fondness there that was impossible to miss. 

There’s a lot to be said for family, Luffy thinks as he wakes up sandwiched between Ace and Sabo so tightly that they’ve all gotten sweaty in their sleep. 

There may not be the singing or the clanking of dishes here like there was at the bar and there may not be the sound of Makino’s humming, but there’s always this: his gross brothers and their fights and their treehouse and their flag and their dreams. It’s enough to fill him right up, like a glass of something sweet right up to the very brim. 

* * *

Sabo’s death punches an unmendable hole straight through the very fabric of the world. 

Ace has stopped crying long ago but Luffy can’t seem to get it under control. They decided not to sleep in the treehouse that night. It was impossible to be there without him and even if it wasn’t the most painful thing in the world, Dadan had insisted. She wanted them close and Luffy feels extra awful for it, knowing that his non-stop sobbing is probably keeping her and all the other bandits awake. 

He pulls the brim of Hat down tight over his face, sucking on his lips like it’ll stop the torrent of sounds his body can’t seem to stop making. It doesn’t. 

In the dark, Ace’s hand rubs soothing circles into Luffy’s back. 

“I know,” is what he whispers—Luffy’s last remaining brother—in between every other hitching sob. 

“He can’t be gone, Ace,” he wails, voice tremulous and throat so raw it burns. 

“I’m sorry,” Ace whispers and holds him tighter. But it’s not Ace’s fault and he shouldn’t need to apologize and he was never very good with words anyways, that was always  _ Sabo,  _ and Luffy, helpless, just cries harder. 

* * *

Makino comes to the mountain with the dawn light. There are tears in her eyes when she bends down and simply folds Luffy into her arms, but she doesn’t let them spill. Ace comes eventually and she tucks him into the embrace, too. 

“I—I can’t s-stop c-crying,” Luffy admits with a voice utterly wrecked by smoke inhalation and tears both. 

Her hands are very soft and very gentle when she wipes at the tear tracks on his cheeks. 

“Grief is the worst thing in the world, Luffy,” she tells him in a voice stretched thin with sorrow of its own. Makino makes sure he meets her eyes before she says, “You cry as much as you need to.” 

It elicits another bout of wretched, noisy sobbing and she only pulls him closer to her body in answer. 

“What happened should never have happened,” Makino presses into the top of his head, her own tears hot on his scalp where they soak through Hat. 

“But it did and he’s  _ gone.”  _

A squeeze, simultaneously too tight and not enough around his shoulders. Luffy clutches her harder, this immovable mountain of a woman, and even if it’s only for a fleeting second, he feels better for her presence. 

“He’s gone but you are not, Luffy. You hear me? Every day that you live you will carry him with you.” 

Later, they think he’s fallen asleep, that he’s finally cried himself out, but he’s awake where he lays in the bandit house. He’s awake to hear Makino and Dadan talk in hushed voices outside. He’s awake to hear them begin to cry, too. 

* * *

Luffy takes Makino’s words to heart and in time, the pain becomes more manageable. Eventually, he can think of Sabo and not cry. Eventually, he and Ace can even talk about him together with smiles on their faces. 

It’s not enough but it is something all the same. 

Ace leaves because this is what they promised each other. Luffy sees him off and does not cry. Instead, he makes the long trek towards Makino’s bar, just for something to do that doesn’t feel so  _ lonely.  _

It’s been awhile since he’s come into town and it shows. Some of the buildings are new, some of the stores and people are, too. One place in particular stands out. It’s a little one-story building made of tan, unpainted wood with a simple red sign above the door:  _ TATTOO.  _

* * *

It hurts but Luffy has never backed away from pain before—not when he drove that knife into his own face to prove himself to Shanks and certainly not now. Not for this.

On the back of his right shoulder, in a blue the very same shade as Sabo’s favorite color, now lives three letters in bold, uncompromising script:  _ ASL.  _

It is both a remembrance and a reminder.

* * *

Before Luffy sets out on his own journey—seventeen now and finally ready to follow in his brothers’ footsteps—he adds something to the design. When he shows Makino, tears spring up in her eyes and her mouth trembles in a smile.

“Don’t cry!” Luffy urges, suddenly anxious he’s done something wrong. He hadn’t meant to upset her. 

Her thin, soft hands are just as strong now as they were when she wiped the tears off his face, except this time  _ she’s  _ crying and yet she’s still the one reaching out to him to cup his face in her open palm. 

“I’m overcome, Luffy. I don’t know what to say,” Makino laughs, a sad and happy sound at the same time. 

“I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t apologize! It’s perfect. It’s wonderful.” The hug she pulls him into is crushing. “I’m  _ so _ proud of you.” 

Simple black lines sketch the shape of Mount Colubo, a frame to the letters  _ ASL _ . The design is for Makino. Luffy knew it as soon as the idea came to him, as undeniable as the sunrise every morning. 

(It is only fitting for his brothers and the woman who made him a part of her family to coexist in this way, to be _ carried with him _ .)

When Luffy sails away from Dawn, Makino and the others waving from the shore, the art on his bare shoulder mirrors the landscape behind him. 

* * *

There will be more tattoos: more people to become a part of him, more beautiful and brilliant lives to carry on his skin. 

There will be three blades for Zoro, in parallel down Luffy’s spine, and an orange blossom in full bloom for Nami on the back of his hand. There will be a  _ 1000  _ sketched in gold around his bicep, for Usopp’s thousand-men army, and an ocean-blue angel fish on his other arm for Sanji, the chef that made their little ship into a true home with the soul only his food could bring. 

A pink kabuki-style monster mask with great curving horns rests between his shoulder blades, an homage to Chopper and the proud beast he becomes. In place of a faded and smudged  _ X  _ drawn in marker comes a golden crown with the purple jewels of Alabasta. For Robin, there will be a great and beautiful tree spanning the entirety of his right thigh, drawn from her memory of a place long since burned away. For Franky, there lives a blue star on his wrist. Merry’s figurehead crests the top of his shirt collar, a playfully grinning ram on the back of his neck whose horns sometimes get lost among his shaggy hair. A painstakingly detailed rendition of Brook’s violin rests just underneath his collarbones, his musician’s music a gift worth boasting in such a prominent place. 

3D2Y will be made permanently rendered on his skin in the loneliest days of his life spent among the jungles of Amazon Lily—a vow, a reminder, and a promise that he will see them again. As soon as the scar tissue is deemed healed enough to handle such a thing, a snow leopard is made to curl around his heart. Joining it is an intricately detailed red and gold wave that never fails to bring tears to Jinbei’s eyes. 

His skin becomes a living canvas, each image a treasure all its own. Every step Luffy takes is unfathomably heavy with the weight of those he carries, except it is not heavy. 

No, it is not heavy at all. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you read this you have the legal right to harass me [on tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/trixree)


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